


The Seven Deadly Sins

by richniggahoseok



Category: Black Panther (2018), 七つの大罪 - 鈴木央 | Nanatsu no Taizai | The Seven Deadly Sins - Suzuki Nakaba (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Anime/Marvel crossover, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 15:23:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15342741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richniggahoseok/pseuds/richniggahoseok
Summary: I’ve been watching this anime called The Seven Deadly Sins and it inspired me to make a series of fics including the fine bp trio (Erik, T’Challa, and M’Baku)





	1. DISCLAIMER

**The Oneshots will be based on each sin. Like this:**

##  **WRATH  
** **LUST  
** **ENVY  
** **GLUTTONY  
** **GREED  
** **SLOTH  
****PRIDE**


	2. WRATH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EXTREMELY DARK. You've been warned.

 

17 year old Erik looked down at his textbook, gripping it tightly. With a deep inhale, he closed his eyes and listened to his English teacher continue his rant about his poor grades. School was dismissed nearly an hour ago, but Erik was told to stay after for a discussion. And now, the teacher is yelling at him.

The young boy sits up, glances at the teacher as he paces back and forth, muscles tense, voice booming with frustration. He doesn’t say a word, instead he feel for his pocket, bringing out a pick for his hair. He stares at the object for a second, smoothly caressing the black bottom of it with his thumb. He continues but is cut off by a slam of his teacher’s hand on his desk. Freezing his movements completely, Erik slowly rose his head up and looked at the grown man. Directly in the eyes. 

“Have you even been listening to me, Stevens?” 

Erik stays silent, still staring at the man. Mr. Cambage sighs deeply, backing away from Erik’s desk and leans on his own, arms crossed over his chest. “Answer me this, Erik.” He started. Erik begin to frown, he hated when he said his name. He hated this teacher in general. The middle aged white man who liked to make shady remarks about the low income black students that he  ** _had to_**  teach. 

“Who are you, Erik?” Mr. Cambage asked the teenager. 

Erik furrows his eyebrows at the question, but doesn’t answer. “Where’s your friends?” Cambage eggs on. “Where’s your home?” With each question, Erik’s frown gets deeper. He looks back down at his hand. In the left hand, he’s holding his textbook. In his right, he’s holding his pick. His hold on both items becomes firm.  _“Shut up.”_

The teacher raises his eyebrows at the sudden noise of Erik’s voice. He noticed Erik’s tensed up shoulders and stands back to his feet. A smirk, evil almost, appears on the man’s face. He takes a step forward and hunches over slightly, just above Erik’s head. “Excuse me?” He asks. Erik repeats himself, with a few harshly added words. His voice is cold and deep. 

_“I said, **shut the fuck up.** ” _

Mr. Cambage doesn’t react. In fact, the man leans down closer. So close, Erik can nearly feel his breathing on top of his head. Scoffing, he replies. “Where are you parents, boy?” 

Erik’s eyes widen. His knuckles are starting to turn white and you can see the veins in his forearm start to bulge. His right leg begins to shake up and down. Still, he says nothing. A laugh comes from Cambage, he stands up, his hands now behind his back, facing away from Erik. He walks toward the window, looking through it. The cruel smirk still plastered on his face. 

**“They’re dead. Aren’t they? Dead and gone. Not here to scold you and knock you upside the head a couple of times. Maybe that’s why you’re so messed up now.”**  His tone is taunting. He’s taunting him. The orphan. The boy who would sit in the back of the class. The boy who gave the impression that he was nothing, but was so much more. The boy who Mr. Cambage felt superior to. 

It takes 2 seconds for Erik to stand out of his seat. The chair he was sitting in scratching against the floor. His chest is rising fast. The textbook and the pick still in his hands. Mr. Cambage is alarmed but doesn’t respond. Erik doesn’t say anything either. The boy turns his head to the door, walking over to it slowly. 

“I didn’t dismiss you, Stevens.” Cambage says. Erik reaches for the doorknob, slowly. He hears Cambage’s footsteps coming near him. He quickly locks the door, creating a impression that he is about to exit while doing so. “Sit back down, now!” The teacher yells. He puts his hand on Erik’s shoulder for a split second before something blindsides him into the nearest desk. 

He grabs for the right side of his face, hissing at the deep sting. Trying to gain his balance, he looks over to see Erik with both of his hands raise. “What are you do-” Erik cuts him off with another smack with the book, this time on the man’s forehead. Cambage grunts loudly and reaches out to Erik. Turning the book sideways, he shoves it into the teacher’s ribcage. Mr. Cambage falls onto his own desk now, Erik follows him. Hitting his ribs again, this time with more force, he watches as the man hunches over, grabbing at his most likely fractured  _or broken_  ribs.

With a firm grip on the pick, Erik drives the sharp edged object into the back of Mr. Cambage’s back. “AHHHHH!” He exclaims, falling to the floor. Pulling the pick out, he repeats himself, 3 times. He puts the textbook on the floor and crouches down. Roughly turning the teacher on their wounded back, Erik grabs the book and slams on the teacher neck. Making sure it was a direct hit for the man’s Adam’s apple. He presses hard before lifting the book and brings it to the teacher’s mouth, trying to quiet him. “Fucking. Bite. It.” He coldly, tells him. Cambage follows. 

Erik raises the pick in the air before driving it into Cambage’s chest, earning a muffled scream from him. Erik then twists the pick in the wound, watching as the teacher’s blood leaks onto the floor and onto his hand. His eyes flicker to Cambage’s face before pulling out the pick. Filled with rage, images of his father’s dead body begin to cloud his mouth. And before he knows it, Erik his stabbing his English teacher over and over again. With each stab, something snaps inside him. 

**Father.**

**Dead.**

**Orphan.**

**Home.**

**Mother.**

**Jail.**

**N’Jadaka.**

**Wakanda.**

Mr. Cambage’s screaming stops and so does Erik’s relentless pursuit. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. His right hand starts to twitch and shake.  _Calm down. Calm down. Calm down._

He opens his eyes back up to see Arthur Cambage’s lifeless body still on the floor. A small pool of blood surrounding him. Erik stands up immediately, realizing he’s standing in it. He snaps his head towards the door and is relief to notice no activity outside.  _Not like any of these teachers gave a fuck anyway._  He looks up at the ceiling, recalling Cambage’s question. 

“Who are you, Erik?” 

He bends down and dips his left index and middle finger into the pool of blood. Turning to a clean spot on the floor near the dead body, he writes a message with the blood covered fingers. 

When he was done. he walked over to the hand sanitizer that stood on Cambage’s counter, and quickly did his best to get the blood off his hands. It didn’t do much, but he could just put his hands in his pocket anyway. 

Grabbing his things, he walked to the door. Taking one last look around. Looking down, Erik reads the message he wrote. In big, blood red letters, it read:

**_I_ **

**_AM_ **

**_ANGRY._**  

And with that, Erik was gone. 

* * *

_**wrath** _

_**noun** _

  1. _**extreme anger**_




End file.
